“Hey fam, just another day in doggy paradise. Saved Spencerville from a pack of outlaws before feasting on some liver & bananas. Left the strawberries ’cause eww! Who needs thumbs when you got a nose like mine, right? – Chickie Nugget 🐾”

Listen to the story here

Now gather ’round, friends, I got myself a tale to spin. A tale of camaraderie, connections, unspeakable felonies, and a dog that’s seen it all – a beagle, as it turns out, by the name of Gordon.

Now I reckon y’all know about Spencerville. They say it’s the place where pets find their paradise when they leave this mortal coil. Where they live like lords, drinkin’ from the Retriever River, and feastin’ at Fetch-N-Bites. But, even in paradise, things can run a bit ruckus.

‘Twas a day just like any of his days in Spencerville, Gordon was loungin’ ‘neath the midday sun in the Golden Gate Gardens, his trusty pink hedgehog toy by his side and his beloved companions, Cede, Lexi Abby, Emma and Quincy, snoozing a stretch away.

Now keep in mind, Gordon wasn’t much for a fuss. He cherished the ray-dappled silence of the garden over the cheery mingling at the East Pug Palace. But sometwixt the twitterin’ birdies and the rustlin’ leaves, a discordant note pried open his half-lidded eyes.

He peered ’round and saw a stagecoach rushin’ down the path. His keen ol’ sniffer twitched at a familiar scent – liver, his favorite, intermingled with something else – fear.

Draggin’ his lazy bones upright, he followed the rickety coach to pursuing band of scoundrels. As I’ve mentioned afore, Spencerville was our idea of perfection, but outlaws? Seems, there was no realm free of ’em.

Unhindered by the urgency of the situation, Gordon ambled along with his distinctive demeanor, half-interest, half-detached, but fully invested in the whiff of liver that had set his senses ablaze.

Gatherin’ his fellows, Abby, slipper-footed Lexi, and the rest, they tailed them marauding hooligans all across Spencerville, ferretin’ them out of their rat holes and leadin’ ’em straight into the arms of the law – those patiently waitin’ Animal Control officers, or as they’s known ’round these parts, “The Canine Coppers.”

Friends, there ain’t nothin’ like the sight of a group of wrong-doers whinin’ and whimperin’ as they’s carted off, destined for a stretch of time in the pound.

After a harrowing adventure like that, a nip was in order, so all of ’em made their way down to Pup-Tizers. Gordon, regal in his silence, was the toast of the toast. His stomach grumbling in anticipation, he wagged his tail approvingly as a steaming plate of liver, with a side of banana slivers, was placed before him. Ain’t nobody know how strawberries remained untouched; guess that’s one secret Gordon’s keepin’.

Now, don’t that beat all? Even in idyllic Spencerville, there’s room for a dollop of crime. Yet with four-legged vigilantes like Gordon and his gang, no miscreant can stray without bein’ collared. That’s the yore of Spencerville, a delightful chaos, a cared-for insurgency, where liver’s the law and Gordon… Gordon’s the paw.

The End.